Uncharted: One Last Tango in Paradise
by Zelda48
Summary: It has been ten long years since Nathan Drake narrowly escaped death in thick jungles and catacombs of Libertalia. Ten years since he forswore a thief's life. But as Nate knows, one does not simply move on from a dangerous past. When Nate makes a discovery that calls the ethics of a powerful billionaire into question forgotten wounds are reopened for one last violent adventure.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 An Unexpected Guest**

Victor Sullivan had always liked cigars. That is, he had ever since he had learned not to inhale the smoke to keep from losing his lunch. To Sully, there was something intrinsically relaxing about smoking a cigar, of any brand, that never got old. There was something about it that was calming to him. Soothing even. It was as if he could rid himself of his many troubles, or at least the stress of dealing with them, with one gentle puff of smoke from a cigar. Sully was, at this moment indulging in one. Admittedly, it wasn't the best cigar. It was a cigar that he had bought from a gas station on one of many stops on his long journey back. And boy, what a stressful journey it was!

The cigar was cheap, as far as cigars went, and only made for a somewhat satisfying smoke. Not that he would have expected any different. It did come from a five and dime after all. It was not a Cuban cigar; those were much finer, more chic. Sully sighed and snuffed out the smoldering end of his cigar in a nearby ashtray and put it back in the lapel pocket of his blazer. He always kept his smokes until they were almost completely burned out, and this particular one was only burned through halfway. Sully liked to make the little things, like his cigars, last as long as he could. Adventurer's habit he called it. Sully, now seventy four, his hair gone completely white and liver spots and wrinkles dotting his skin needed his down time.

He didn't get out as much as he used too.

Sully had been thinking all evening. He had been trying to remember something. He knew it, whatever it was, was important. It had something to do with the weather. Sully scowled, he hated not being able to remember things. Sometimes the cigars helped with his memory. Sully never really understood why, but with a cigar in his hand and a warm cloud of gray smoke floating around him, his mind seemed to achieve certain clarity. Perhaps it was because they relaxed him, and set him at ease. During those times, he found that could cast his mind back farther than other times. He could... remember things, things that normally escaped his mind's reach. This time was different.

And it was annoying the hell out of him.

At this moment the door to his left opened and a tanned, muscular, and the still somewhat handsome figure of his protégé entered the room. The figure was Nathan Drake. Or just Nate to Sully.

Sully smiled, it had been a long time since he had seen Nate in person. Too long. "So... the host of tonight's dinner party has finally arrived." he said.

"Sully!" Nate exclaimed, his face breaking into an expression of surprised delight, like a young boy who had found an unexpected Christmas present. "Sully! I-I can't believe it. It's you!"

"Yeah. It's me all right."

"I-" Nate started, clearly lost for words.

Sully chuckled at this, "How you doin' kid?"

"Oh uh, I'm fine, I'm fine… been taking care of things at home, taking care of the kids. Business has been pretty good…" Nate said, as he shut the door behind him with a gentle _click_ "What about you Sully? It's been a few weeks. You look like you've been taking good care of yourself." He added, gesturing to the fresh pile of ashes in the ashtray.

Sully scowled, "You were never one for humor Nate."

"It's nothing personal Sully, but you should probably stop smoking."

"Old habit kid. Can't break it." Sully said. "But yeah, I'm still kickin' around boyo."

"Yeah I know." Nate said, seeming slightly unsure of himself. In an instant, his expression sobered as he turned back to his visitor, "Sully, I just can't believe this. What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd drop in; see how my former business partner's getting along."

"That was uh, very friendly of you Sully."

Sully smiled, "I think 'neighborly' is the word you're looking for Nate."

"Sully I –" Nate started.

"I know, you didn't think I was coming."

"No, I didn't to be honest." Nate admitted, "I'm sorry Sully. Elena told me about you being stuck in Mombasa and I figured you wouldn't come."

Sully shook his head at this, "You worry about me too much kid."

"Maybe I do. I don't know, it's just been so long..." Nate said.

"I know."

"So how did you get in here, exactly?"

"That kid of yours, Cassie. She let me in."

"She - she did?" Nate asked, "For Christ's sake... I need to talk to her. Cassie! Cassie!" he yelled.

"She's asleep Nate." Sully explained.

Nate stared at him. "How do you know?"

"It's not important." Sully said with a wave of his hand, "Look, you might want to call Lena, let her know I'm here." he added helpfully.

"Why didn't you call?"

"You didn't answer my messages, or any of the five emails I sent you. By the way kid, I'd appreciate it if you could pick up the phone sometime. I got a little tired of talking to the answering machine."

"Sorry Sully, we were a little busy. The message box is a little overflowed," Nate stumbled on his words for a moment, obviously unsure how to handle the situation, "okay, okay! I'm calling her right now."

"Hmm?" Sully looked at Nate. He usually wasn't this awkward, "Where is she Nate?"

"She's at the airport, picking up Sam."

Sam. Now Nate's behavior made more sense. There had been some… uncomfortableness between the two brothers ever since it had come to light that Sam had gotten Nate involved in the deadly Libertalian treasure hunt, not to pay off a bounty, but out of his own greed. Nate wasn't the type to hold grudges though, as Sully knew well. It had taken a while, but things had been on the mend between the brothers for years after the events with Avery's treasure. The anger, however mild, that Nate had quietly bore against his brother had been extinguished. Then there was the diamond heist in South Africa three years ago.

Damn thing. Sully had tried to dissuade Sam from taking that job, but he couldn't keep him away from it. Shortly thereafter he had to get himself involved in the whole mess to protect Sam… and narrowly avoided an early grave when the Fico coal power plant in Johannesburg exploded in the process.

Nate had been furious when he had heard about it. Sully didn't blame him either. It couldn't be easy to maintain a reputation as a sterling photojournalist and historian while a prominent family member is breaking the law and getting shot at. It hadn't been easy.

"Bye honey. Take care…" Nate winced as he finished his phone call. Sully noticed this unsurprisingly. Lena had been on Nate's case for years. It had been especially bad during the Libertarian fiasco, where he, Sully, got saddled with joyless the task of keeping her from filing for a divorce after Nate's deception. A moment rarely passed where Sully didn't thank god that he was good with women. "So Sully," Nate turned to him, "how long have you been here?"

"Oh, about an hour or two."

"Huh." Nate said, "Hey do you know anything about a recent discovery of buried Nazi gold in Poland?"

"Nazi gold? God damn it, Nate." Sully scowled. He hated it when the kid would start rambling about history and treasure hunting in the middle of a conversation. But it wasn't the history or the treasure hunting that got on his nerves. It was that such discussions usually ended up with Nate bragging about the latest issue of _National Geographic_ that he was featured in. "Don't change the subject on me."

"It's just a thing I've been researching." Nate said. "Look, I'm just trying to be a good host."

"Like hell you are."

"I am!" Nate protested. "Kind and considerate like you always told me, remember?"

"Kind and considerate? Ha! You haven't even offered me any food let alone a drink." Sully said. "Do you know what it's like having to look at that fantastic fruit bowl over there," he gestured to a giant blue bowl on the countertop that was filled to the brim with pineapples, peaches, and plums among other foods, "and not be able to touch any of it?"

"Sorry Sully, do you want me to get you anything?" Nate smiled.

"Nate if I want something I'll get it myself. I'm not _that_ old."

"Of course not." Nate said soothingly. "Would you like some food?"

"No thanks." Sully said.

"Then what was the guilt trip for? I thought you were hungry!"

"I changed my mind."

Nate sighed in exasperation, "Okay Sully. Can I get you something to drink?"

Sully laughed, he was having fun with this. Nate clearly was not the type who was used to being the host. When Sully had come over in previous years it was usually Lena who did most of the serving, while Nate talked. However, now that Nate mentioned it, he _was_ thirsty. The only thing Sully could drink on the plane was Alcohol, soda upset his stomach, but they didn't have any. Not even water. Just soda. So, he hadn't drank anything in nine hours. Sully was parched.

"Yeah."

"What do you want?"

"Do you have any Coors around here?"

"Coors? The beer? Uh - I think I have a pack left." Nate said.

Sully grimaced, "Thanks Nate."

"Any time Sully." Nate replied, giving the old man a brief pat on the back as he went to fetch the beer from the fridge. Sully watched as his friend walked away, his footfalls falling heavily on the hardwood floor. He sighed and pulled out his cigar and surveyed it for a moment before putting it back in his pocket. Suddenly Sully remembered.

"Hey Nate! Nate!" he yelled.

"What?"

"Is it supposed to rain tonight?"

"I think so!" Nate replied.

"Hmm…" Sully muttered, "That's what I thought."

Suddenly there was a loud boom outside, then a pause followed by another boom, like a thunderclap. Sully cocked his head in interest and listened as a pounding rain rapidly descended on the house. There it was. Sully smiled and leaned back in his chair as another flash of lightning lit up the windowsills.

He liked the rain.

...

"Ahh. That sure hits the spot boyo." Sully sighed happily as he placed his now emptied beer can on the floor beside him. Nate noticed this and squirmed uncomfortably in his seat,

"Sully please,"

"I know kid. I know. I'm not supposed to put it there." Sully said, as he bent over, picked up the can, and put it on the table beside him. As he did so he could feel his back pop with a dull cracking sound.

Shit.

Sully groaned and gently rested his back against the chair as a spike of pain shot up his spine like a searing flame. Damn back. Sully had been dealing with back problems ever since he had caught a shard of metal in his spine during that operation in South Africa. His doctors had told him to take it easy and try to exert himself as little as possible. The problem was, Sully never knew when he was moving too much or not. So, he would constantly get random flashes of pain. He gripped the head of the stick next to the chair tightly as the waves of pain passed through him.

He had to walk with a cane now.

In a way, Sully didn't mind the presence of the cane, or his walking stick as he called it. 'Walking stick' sounded less old than cane to him and he liked it that way. In fact, Sully felt that having it around gave him a certain kind of classiness. A sort of style he had lacked in earlier years. Some said he looked quite elegant, like an old gentleman. Others, especially certain friends of his, said that he, with his snowy hair, bushy mustache, and cane looked a great deal like Mr. Monopoly at high-class socials.

Sully was not amused by the comparison.

"Sully…? Are you okay?" Nate asked, concern evident in his eyes. He had clearly noticed Sully's discomfort.

"It's nothin' you need to worry about kid." Sully grimaced.

"Are you sure?"

Sully sighed. This was just going to be a great evening. He could tell. Half the people still weren't home and his host was already fretting over him like he was an invalid! "I'm fine Nate." He said, "I just need to take it easy."

"Yeah…" Nate said, "I guess we're all getting a little old huh?"

"Tell me about it."

"I just, I don't know." Nate shook his head; "I hate seeing you like this Sully."

"Like what?"

"All old and wrinkled, kinda like Mr. Monopoly."

Sully scowled at this, "That isn't funny Nate. Do you have _any_ idea how many times I've heard that joke already?"

Nate laughed, "Sorry Sully I couldn't resist. It's well you know… you look so much like him with the hair, the suit, the mustache, and that cane. With a top hat you could be in a Hasbro commercial!"

Sully ignored him and proceeded to relight his cigar. He was feeling a little tense. "Goddammit Nate." He muttered in irritation. It was moments like these where he considered shaving his mustache. He might look like that fellow on the Quaker Oats can without it but at least he wouldn't be the butt of any more 'Mr. Monopoly' jokes. What a relief that would be!

"Hey – hey Sully."

"Hmm?"

"What happens when I pass Go?"

"I think I've had enough of this Nate."

"I don't think that answers my question." Nate grinned.

"Fine." Sully said tiredly, "You get 250 more reasons to stop making that joke!"

Nate laughed again but upon seeing the look on his mentor's face he quickly sobered up. "Sorry Sully." He said with as much sincerity as he could muster.

Sully didn't offer anything in response but a few puffs of smoke.

The two sat in silence for a while. Nate turned to one of his many historical books, this one on Ancient Chinese history and began perusing it with great intensity. Sully, for his part, contented himself by listening to the rhythmic pounding of the rain upon Nate's northwestern house. Rains always made a new and distinct sound to Sully, or they did during the many times he would stay up late at night and listen to them. Some rains would make a steady _pit pat, pit pat, pit pat_ sound, which gave him the impression that a giant hand was tapping discretely on the roof. Other rains however, especially the monsoons in India and Australia, would descend upon shelter like a rumble of thunder with a rapid _thump, thump, thump_ sound that made Sully feel like he was underneath a waterfall. He could listen to a steady rain for hours. Days, even, if it lasted that long.

Sully often did his best thinking in these rains, especially with a cigar in hand. The rhythmic pounding of the water and the roar of the wind played well with his mind. The rains made him feel alive, more aware of his surroundings. It was a satisfying reprieve from all the stress and confusion he too often experienced on the computer. Sully often wondered how anyone got anything done on the computer. The goddamned machines were loaded with distractions.

Sully took another puff of his cigar and smiled. It felt good to be back in his element.

"So when will Lena be back?" he asked between smokes.

"Uh she said eight fifteen, so in another half hour or so." Nate said.

That sounded good to Sully. He didn't want to have to stay up past midnight for a dinner party.

"Hey Sully listen to this," Nate said, "Arthurian legend tells of a vast treasure of diamonds and gold buried under Stonehenge,"

Sully turned to his protégé and held up a hand, "Hold it, hold it. What was that Nate?"

"Arthurian legend." Nate said, holding up a large battered brown book for Sully to see. Sully glanced at it with mild interest. It read _A History of English Kings_ on the cover and was as thick as a whopper.

"I thought you were reading some book on Asian History. Or what about that thing with the Nazi gold in Poland you were talking about earlier?"

Nate shrugged, "I got bored."

"It's not like you to get bored with history Nate." Sully said.

"So? Arthurian legend is incredibly interesting Sully."

"Kid, you know that's a book on English kings right?"

"Yup."

"Then what does that have to do with Arthurian legend?"

"Everything." Nate said brightly, "You see Sully, there's a section in here that references _Annales Cambriae_ , which specifically states that Arthur was King of England, or a ruler of some kind in the early fifth century."

"Annales… what?" Sully asked, very confused as to what Nate was talking about.

" _Annales Cambriae_ , Sully. It means 'Welsh Annals' in old English." Nate continued, as he flipped through a few pages, "Anyway, Uther Pendragon, who was Arthur's father, was buried at Stonehenge, probably near the beginning of the fifth century. Apparently… yes here it is, a large fortune was buried with Uther, to comfort him in the afterlife probably, in the form of two large gold dragons… that's got to be worth millions Sully. Incredible huh?"

There was no response to his query.

Nate shut his book and setting it down beside him, "Sully?"

Sully stared at Nate and shook his head. The kid could talk the ear off a priest when he got started on history. This time he'd been on about some Arthurian legend for the past fifty minutes, at least he had from what Sully could see by his watch. He always got a bad feeling whenever Nate got going on a historical tangent. It usually led to the packing of bags, a one-way trip to some misbegotten part of the world, and a confrontation with some force of evil. Nate, as Sully knew well, had extremely poor impulse control.

"Sully?"

"Damn it Nate." Sully said, "After all these years, are you planning on another adventure?"

 **A/N: This is a reposted and edited version of my original Uncharted fanfiction: Uncharted 5, which was put on hold because of various problems with the pacing and plot. Enjoy :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 The Gathering**

"Hey Sully, could you help me set the table here?"

"God damn it Nate, I'm your goddamn guest." Sully growled, "I'm not supposed to _help_ you set your own table!"

It had been a full half hour since Nate had finished telling him about De Sade and that business with the treasure from Arthurian legend. Sully didn't like the sound of any of it, but he had sat and listened to his protégé talk about the whole thing in his usual passionate tone. Then, in the middle of some tale about Merlin and the moving of Stonehenge to England with giants Nate had finally remembered that he was supposed to be holding a dinner party. So, for the past several minutes he had been running around like a chicken with its head cut off tidying up the organizational disaster that was his home.

"Sully please. Elena's going to kill me if she sees that mess!" Nate pleaded, as he fumbled around the kitchen for some spare silverware, "You know I never do this sort of thing."

Sully sighed as he surveyed the messy table. There was a pile of dirty dishes strewn about it, which he could only presume were the remnants of a past meal, not to mention many, many papers that covered most of the tablecloth. "Jesus Christ kid." He muttered. "When is this dinner party starting anyway?"

"In twenty minutes. Elena will… uhm she'll probably be here in about half that time…" Nate explained.

"Christ almighty." Sully said, wondering how on earth Nate had managed to leave that dining table a shambles until the last minute. Where had he been all that time anyway? "Alright kid I'll give you a hand. What do you want me to do?"

"Well, it'd be great if you could clear off that table Sully."

"Sure thing." Sully replied. "What are you doing Nate?"

"I'm looking for the silverware." Nate said, as he opened the oven and peeked inside.

Sully chuckled at this, "I don't think you'll find it in there."

Nate shot him a look, "Sully…"

"Yeah I know. The table. I'll take care of it."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it kid… don't mention it." Sully said as he strode over to the table. He gave it a brief look over and wondered where to start first.

It wasn't an easy decision. The thing was so thoroughly covered in rubbish Sully wondered if the table had ever been set in the last year. He probably didn't even use it for dining anymore, but for an extension of his personal workspace judging by the numerous maps and official paperwork lying all over it. Oh well, he might as well start a new trend now. Sully grabbed one of the grubby plates nearest to him and began to make a stack of other dirty dishes atop of it. Within several minutes he had collected all the dishes, along with several cups, saucers, and an assortment of random silverware off the table and into a two-foot pile.

"The hell with it." Sully muttered, as he carefully picked up the stack and, taking great care, walked into the kitchen and placed the dishes near the sink. "What a mess." He said.

"Sully!" Nate exclaimed, entering the kitchen again, this time with a fistful of forks in one hand and cabbage knives in the other, "Sully what are you doing?"

"I'm doing what you wanted me to do."

"The table isn't cleaned yet!"

"Thanks for appreciating the effort Nate."

Nate sighed in frustration, "Look I'm sorry Sully. Thanks for taking the dishes in. But that table really needs to be cleaned. Elena's going to be here any minute!" he added, in a somewhat panicked tone.

Sully looked at him flatly, "I was about to take care of that y'know."

"I -" Nate started before he regained his composure, "Thanks. I'll get some clean dishes out. Let me know if you need any help…"

"Help?" Sully chuckled, "I might not be as young as I used too but I'm not completely helpless Nate."

"Yeah, sure." Nate said, "I was just being polite!"

"Of course you were."

Sully shook his head as he went back into the dining room, and with a little more speed this time; he cleared the table of the remaining papers. The stack of the papers was almost as enormous as all of the silverware. Sully once again cursed his friend's messiness and carefully picked up the massive stack, "Nate! Where do you want all this?" he called.

"What is it?"

"Paper!" Sully said, "And lots of it."

"Oh that?" Nate replied. "Uh, the study's as good a place as any."

Sully paused, and looked around, "The study huh? Now where is that supposed to be in this goddamn house?"

Then it came back to him. The study was down the hall, to his right and in the room across from Cassie's. Sully smiled at himself and walked down the hall, it had been a long time since he had been around the place. At least his memory was still intact. However, Sully had scarcely taken a few steps forward before he felt a sharp pain in his spine like a thunderbolt and before he knew it, he had crumpled to the floor with a loud _thump!_

"Aaaah!" Sully yelped as he slowly tried to right himself. But try as he might, the old man could barely move. His back was in searing pain, as if he had a thousand needles stuck into his spine, and it penetrated his very being with the sting of red flame. "Jesus Christ…" Sully muttered as he saw the huge stack of paperwork strewn on the floor around him, " _Shit_."

"Sully!" Nate exclaimed, as he stumbled into the living room to see what the noise was about. Upon seeing his former mentor on the floor his eyes grew as wide as soup spoons and he rushed over to him, "Sully! Oh my god Sully, what happened? Are you okay?"

"What does it look like?" Sully said sarcastically, "No I'm not okay Nate! I can't even move!"

"What happened?"

"My – argh…" Sully paused, "it's my back."

"Shit, shit, shit. That's not good at all." Nate groaned,

"I know its not good!" Sully exclaimed, "Now would you like to help me out here Nate?"

"Okay, okayyy. Okay, Sully, I'm going to put you on the couch over there" he gestured to the ugly brown couch near the front door, "will that work for you?"

"Anything's better than this."

Nate nodded, "Okay," but before he could finish the doorbell rang, followed by several impatient knocks on the door. "Damn it." He muttered. "Sully?"

"Just open it kid." Sully said through gritted teeth.

"Yeah." Nate said, rubbing his forehead with both hands, "Yeah I'll do that."

Nate strode over to the door like a man walking to his death sentence and opened it hesitantly, however his body visibly relaxed upon seeing who it was. It was not Elena, obviously. Sully leaned over his side as much as he dared to see a muscular, dark skinned man in a long, rain splattered trench coat and hat standing at the foot of the door. The man tipped his brimmed hat in greeting and stepped inside,

"Nathan Drake, it is good to see you." He said, giving Nate's hand a warm shake. The man had a strong upper class British accent, judging by how he emphatically pronounced his 'o's. So strong, it made Sully wonder he was from New Zealand. Australia even.

"Erm, yes, good to see you too Marcus." Nate said awkwardly.

"And who is this?" Marcus said, gesturing to Sully, "I did not know you had invalids here Mr. Drake."

"I'm not an invalid!" Sully growled, glaring at Marcus.

"Marcus, meet Victor Sullivan. He's an old friend of mine."

Sully offered a brief wave, before grimacing in pain at the exertion. Marcus watched this with slight interest before he nodded in return, "Mr. Sullivan it is good to meet you. I am Marcus De Sade."

Oh Christ. Nate's billionaire friend would just walk in to see him like this. "That's just perfect." Sully said.

…

Sam Drake stepped off the landing at Sea Tac airport and took a deep breath as a wall of rain greeted his arrival and splattered onto his suit. Cold, dreary, windy, and wet. Oh yes… it had been a long time since he had visited the Pacific Northwest.

Sam ducked under the nearby cover and glanced around the driveway looking for any sign Nate's car. But try as he might, the distinct shape of his brother's grey Dodge Durango was not anywhere to be seen. Sam shook his head, little brothers. Sam checked his watch; it was eight fifty seven at night. Shit. Nate was supposed to be at the airport thirty minutes ago. Sam knew he was not mistaken in this. His plane, at least, had arrived on time.

Oh well, Sam hadn't exactly expected Nate to be on time. He was always late. Ever since they were kids running around burglarizing houses for their parent's old stuff, Nate was almost always the slower one. Not in the way of intelligence of course. But in the way of speed and agility. Even in Libertalia, that had been the case. Who had been the first to find the treasure? Not Nate. Not Rafe. Not Nadine and her entire army of hired goons. And it certainly was not Sully. No, it was he, Samuel Drake who had found it. Sam chuckled to himself at the memory as he pulled out his old lighter and lit a cigarette. Of course, things hadn't exactly gone to plan on Avery's ship. Getting trapped under a two ton log and almost getting killed by Rafe… that definitely was not what he had intended. In all fairness though, Sam did owe Nate one for saving him from the burning wreck back there.

If he hadn't…

…he wouldn't be able to tease Nate about the whole thing for starters.

"Well that was a grim thought." Sam said. "Think happy thoughts Sam. Happy thoughts…"

He enjoyed the cigarette for a few more minutes before snuffing it out in his palm and throwing it away. Marlboros. They were, by far, his favorite kind of cigarette.

He watched it fall onto the pavement and get swept away by the river of water that was developing there thanks to the pounding rain. Sam smirked. He could just hear some environmentalist screaming at him right now. It didn't bother Sam. There was no big deal about a single cigarette. It wasn't as if he was pouring tons of chemicals into the rivers or blowing metric tons of coal dust into the sky. Those guys, they were the real problem. He, of course, was doing nothing more than enjoying what the world had to offer.

It had been a short flight for Sam. After all, Montana, where he lived, was only a state away from Washington. He wondered for a moment if a flight was really all that necessary. Sam glanced at his briefcase; it had four changes of clothes and a blue tie in it and little else. No, he supposed, with as little as he was carrying it wasn't a necessary at all. But then again, Sam didn't feel like driving.

He didn't like sitting in a car for very long. The seats weren't meant to be sat in for more than a few hours.

"Kids…" Sam muttered as he watched a mother rush out of the airport, struggling to shield her two children from the downpour, in her haste. He looked away from the harried family and gazed out into the weather. He didn't like seeing kids nowadays.

The sight of them, young, energetic, and full of energy… Sam had to admit, seeing them made him feel old.

And what made it all worse was that he really was getting older. And fast. He didn't move as fast as he used to. His reflexes weren't as sharp. His eyesight was dulled. In the old days, Sam was hard to keep out of mischief. From jumping across rooftops in his hometown to nearly escaping from that prison in Panama, to climbing sharp ridges on the Scottish coast, Sam had been full of life, and adventure.

Things were different now.

Now, Sam had settled down. He wore glasses across his face. His hair had thinned. His scarred face was crisscrossed with wrinkles, the strain of many sleepless nights. He had traded his blue jeans for aged khakis. His mountain boots had been replaced with five dollar penny loafers. He had even traded his guns and his climbing ropes for textbooks and a protractor. Now, Sam was teaching pre-calculus over at Missoula High School to a class of eighteen students. Now, he lived a sedentary existence.

The steep mountains and lush green forests of Montana was all he had left to remind him of his past life.

Sam lit another cigarette. Where had it all changed? He wondered for the hundredth time in many weeks. He glanced at his old lighter. _Sic parvis magna_ , the small words forever engraved in the metal.

"Greatness from small beginnings." Sam murmured. The mantra of Sir Francis Drake filled his heart with longing. It reminded him of what things once were and how life had once been. He couldn't go back to that now.

He pocketed the lighter.

When had it all changed?

Suddenly a pair of yellow headlights blazed down the road and before Sam knew it, Nate's truck had pulled up before him. Sam smiled and tossed aside his cigarette.

"It's about time you arrived little brother." He muttered as he left the shelter and strode over to the truck. He opened the door and hopped in.

"Hello Sam. Nate asked me to pick you up."

Sam turned in surprise at the voice. "Elena!" he exclaimed.

"Sam." Elena replied politely.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked. He had not been expecting this.

"What does it look like? I'm picking you up."

"Oh, um…"

"Would you mind closing your door? It's pouring outside." Elena gestured to the open car door, which was rapidly getting soaked in the rain.

"Sure." Sam said. He shut the door. Elena thanked him and sped off from the airport, the windshield wipers working overtime to keep the windshield clear from the weather. For several minutes, neither spoke. Sam, feeling uncomfortable about the whole situation, decided to break the silence.

"So, why's Nate home?"

"He had to take care of the kids." Elena said, "Jacob's only four years old."

"Jacob?" Sam asked quizzically.

"Yes, Jacob. You missed his birthday last year. Remember?"

Sam's face reddened with embarrassment at this. Yes, he remembered that well. It was not one of the prouder moments of his life. Sam had gotten drunk the night before… more drunk than he had been in a while. By the next morning he had a terrible hangover and didn't make it out of his house to get the mail until the late afternoon. It was too late to make a trip then.

What was worse was that Sam hadn't even bothered to take the time to make a drunken 'Happy Birthday' phone call.

He remembered how, days later, when he had finally called how much Jacob had cried. His Uncle Sam didn't even care enough about him to wish him happy birthday let alone visit. God damn it, Sam glowered. How could he have been so stupid? Or so cruel?

It was not something he liked to think about.

Sam looked at Elena. She did not return his gaze, but kept her eyes steadfastly on the road. He sighed and reached for his lighter.

This was going to be a long visit.

 **A/N: Thanks to those who left this story a favorite and a follow. I hope you enjoyed this latest rewritten chapter. Sam's a fun character to write. Almost as fun as to write as Sully in fact :)**


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